


2 A.M.

by Janet_Coleman_Sides



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drugs, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janet_Coleman_Sides/pseuds/Janet_Coleman_Sides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheer smut: a dreamlike incident perceived by Mulder to be part of the conspiracy controlling the lives of himself, his partner and their boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2 A.M.

It was nearly 2 am.

Mulder glanced again and again at the clock on the wall as though he were driving it forward, micron by micron, with the strength of his eyelids. These were all he had to work with, after all: the drug he and Scully had been given had sapped their strength till they lay sprawled, boneless, in the padded room. He did not know where they were. All he knew was what time it was.
    
    
    2:01.

Scully intersected him only at the knees; they were positioned as though they had been scattered like pick-up sticks. He could see her feet. Her shoes were gone, and her toes bare, which riveted his interest for some minutes until the door swung open.

He felt Scully come awake in that moment, was conscious of the change in the feel of her, even through such a casual contact. 

Mulder stared at the doorway, too dreamy to move or speak, as AD Skinner was thrust into the room. The door shut again with an efficient snap as Skinner thudded heavily to the padded floor and lay there, eyes open, breathing slowly and deeply just as they did.
    
    
    2:18. 

It seemed he had been trying to marshal his strength to speak for hours: it was like a half-waking, half-sleeping state, an excruciating leaden weight on his chest. 

But then all thought of speech began to slide away in a haze of warmth, a tingle of heat that prickled over his entire skin and insinuated into his groin with inevitable precision. Mulder's voice released suddenly in a low moan as his cock sprang to life -- then he held his breath, abashed, as Skinner met his eye.
    
    
    2:24.

Scully had begun squirming, and her leg felt hot through both their layers of clothes. The little whimpering sounds in the back of her throat as she struggled to move tormented Mulder, but he kept staring into Skinner's eyes. They looked darker now. His pupils were dilated. 

He looked delicious.

The thought made Mulder shiver with shame even as his insistent cock throbbed harder. Oh yes, he'd thought about Skinner, and he'd thought about Scully too many times to count, but *this* idea had, surprisingly, never formed in his conscious mind. A real FBI slumber party, this. There would be cameras, of course -- one in the clock, most likely -- but the drug's tingling wash of sensation and possibility rendered the nasty realities of blackmail and scandal distant concerns. The situation seemed now not a trap but a gift too precious to waste. 
    
    
    2:39.

Mulder didn't know quite how it started. One of the drug's effects on him seemed to be these intermittent lucid moments. He had to assume they were all in the same condition, for here were Scully and Skinner and he, wrestling out of their clothes and hungrily touching and tasting one another in turn. His appetite for them seemed limitless, a tireless gourmand at a feast of pleasure.

Skinner's tongue probed into his mouth, jabbing cleanly at Mulder's own till he moaned and fell away. Scully claimed his mouth for herself as Skinner raised himself up on his elbow and closed his mouth around Mulder's fevered cock. Mulder shouted into Scully's mouth and came like a thunderclap, uncontrollable, spurting into Skinner's mouth before he could even try to stop it.
    
    
    2:57.

When Skinner pulled away Scully kissed him. Mulder watched, rapt, as those lush lips which had haunted his thoughts for untold hours tasted his come -- from Skinner's lips -- Mulder groaned, head lolling back, as it overwhelmed him momentarily. The more sexual this situation became, the more sharply dubious its reality. (He told himself.) 
    
    
    3:03.

He told himself that several more times as he watched them. Skinner, fully exposed, was built like an action figure. Lightly furred, magnificently muscled, he was -- Mulder acknowledged it consciously to himself in another lucid pocket -- utterly beautiful... an aesthetic ideal. 

And the way those beautiful muscles flexed as he pumped smoothly into Scully -- Scully who mewed and writhed beneath him, beautiful, powerful little Scully, another aesthetic ideal -- set Mulder's heart pounding, his mouth dry. He licked his lips as he watched them abandoned to passion, as Scully drummed her small bare heels into Skinner's sculpted, flexing cheeks, as Skinner responded by squeezing his eyes shut and ramming into Scully with tightly focused ferocity. 
    
    
    3:14.

Scully's face was transformed: her eyes roaming sightlessly, mouth open and blurred as she gasped and moaned, *moaned* in long siren phrases of pleasure. She was close to coming. Skinner just kept slamming into her, tireless. He had lifted slightly on his arms and Mulder could see his cock hovering between them between each stroke. Mulder could not decide which sight brought him back to an instant, straining erection: the bulk of the big rigid bar of Skinner's cock, or the way it glistened with Scully's juices. It pistoned smoothly, and she strove against it so hard that it must be filling her full, filling her completely.

As Mulder had imagined himself doing, so many times.

Scully groaned, and the sound became a rising wail: she froze, every muscle straining. Skinner relentlessly stuffed himself into her, the fine tight ripples of his body glistening with sweat. His eyes remained closed. He did not exactly give voice to his own pleasure, but his breath as he continued fucking in tightly controlled lunges escaped his teeth in audible bursts.

Then Scully turned her head toward Mulder, eyes glazed and feverish, and met his gaze as she exploded into coming. He saw her silently mouth his name as the tremors took her and she squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering and clutching Skinner's massive arms.

She fell back in a swoon, those exquisite lips curved in a satisfied smile, a rather startlingly new expression on a face Mulder knew so well. And his name, silently pronounced, seemed to linger in her mouth, just beyond her teeth where he could not catch a glimpse. He longed to kiss her, to search her mouth with his tongue for the savor of his name...

Mulder was still smiling foolishly to himself as Skinner, flushed and panting but (amazingly) not yet spent, pulled out of Scully and reached for him.

As Mulder had imagined him doing, so many times.
    
    
    3:40.

Mulder sat up as Skinner's big hands gripped his shoulders. His blood thrummed in his ears and under his tongue, flushing his skin with heat and sensitivity, and throbbing in a tight pulse at the base of his painfully distended cock. Skinner pulled him close and claimed his mouth in another kiss, this one different: passionate and wild, less precise than anything he had done so far. It was as though pleasure had at last gained free rein over Skinner -- and not with Scully, but with him, Mulder. 

He felt an irresistible flush of desire and power, felt his body arch and flow with him, alive and awake and at his command. He felt beautiful, beautiful, in a way he had never even imagined, in a way he knew he would never feel comfortable describing or acknowledging. But right now, what he was was what he was. He felt as though he were immersed, dosed with the truth. Lies were far below this room, this padded cell where they had all been strategically placed (he hadn't quite forgotten that). Here there were only their selves, and the truth about them. Desire and pleasure. And the unblinking eye of the clock.

Mulder pulled the other man closer so that skin met skin, and they began grappling with one another as this turn of the dance became something more in the spirit of a combat. He was seriously outclassed by Skinner, of course, but he was able to use this newfound sense of beauty and power to entice and inflame his opponent, the object of his efforts being not to wrestle but to make contact, rubbing and flowing and raising the pitch, little by little, till Skinner groaned into his mouth and Mulder smiled a little secret smile to himself.

He closed his hand for the first time in his life around the cock of another man, thick and hot and hard and still gummy with his partner's juices, and whispered in his boss' ear, "Fuck me."
    
    
    3:43.

They ended up using, of all things, some Vaseline from Scully's tube of lip balm. She had recovered from her swoon after only a minute or two and had lay watching them avidly as they embraced. Her face was alight, and her breathing shallow. Watching them together had rekindled her lust, perhaps even hotter than it had been before. She offered the tube silently from the pocket of her crumpled blazer.

Skinner took it, moved Mulder so that he knelt on all fours, and began rubbing a generous amount of the greasy balm directly onto his anus. Mulder arched and whimpered at the unaccustomed pleasure this contact brought. Untried but intensely sensitive nerve endings flared to life, and he trembled with hunger.

Perhaps, he thought, he could understand what a woman's lust might feel like: this deep yearning to be filled, stuffed full and impaled with another's pleasure. He felt his muscles relaxing enough to admit Skinner's fingers in a slowly increasing sequence. The sensation was at first distressing, nearly painful, but then the discomfort would melt into a sweet satisfaction unlike anything he had previously experienced.

Scully lay on her back, hair spread around her head like a ruddy halo, watching them. Her legs were open, and he got his first clear view of her pussy. Contrary to his fantasies, she was not shaved, but her pubic hair was closely cropped and her gloriously pink labia delicately beautiful. She was a little swollen from the recent fucking, and somehow this excited Mulder more. 

And she was touching herself, her surgeon's fingers flickering over her swollen clit, as she watched them. Mulder moaned long and low, and Skinner leaned over him to say to Scully, "Do you want him?"

She nodded mutely, fingers working atop her moist mound with furious speed.

"Then come here and join us," Skinner growled.

Scully looked to Mulder, who nodded emphatically. She slowed her hand and wriggled underneath him as Skinner's fingers continued to prepare Mulder's ass. 
    
    
    4:09.

Mulder looked into Scully's eyes as he penetrated her, letting everything he knew and felt and was show on his face as he buried his throbbing cock inch by inch into her welcoming heat. Even after Skinner she was tight, incredibly tight. He sobbed against her pale creamy throat as she clenched his cock with her muscles, drawing him in to the hilt with a gasp. Skinner was thicker, but Mulder was longer, and he held still there with considerable effort, to allow her to get used to him.

Then he felt the big blunt head of Skinner's cock bumping against his well-greased hole, and he held still and forcibly relaxed himself, trying not to cry out or let Scully see him in distress as it popped in past the ring of muscle, stretching him wide without invading too far yet.

Far enough. It burned, it hurt! Mulder felt his face twist out of his control into a grimace, his entire body shivering. The three of them froze as though in a tableau while he panted and shook his head slowly from side to side, every muscle bunched and trembling. Skinner's palms, big and warm, smoothed over Mulder's back while Scully's fingers stroked his hair, and slowly the rigid bite of pain began to fade as Skinner pressed forward a little further. 

Mulder whimpered, and Scully turned her head to kiss him, absorbing his cries into her mouth as Skinner impaled him on his thick cock. 

As soon as Skinner's hips bumped against Mulder's ass, buried to the hilt, Mulder felt the trembling subside and sweetness begin to spread like a warm glow deep inside. Skinner's cock throbbed inside him, filling him with a deep, wild hunger, and Scully throbbed around Mulder's cock, hot and tight and sweet, and Skinner began to stroke in and out and Mulder began to stroke in and out and he realized in that moment that he had never known what pleasure truly was. To fill and be filled, to desire and be desired, to love and be loved...the three of them made a circuit of blinding intensity. 

Mulder clenched and thrust into Scully, yelling through his teeth as Skinner fucked his ass, digging that rigid rod deep up into him. Skinner's lips tugged at the back of Mulder's neck in fervent kisses even as Scully sucked on Mulder's tongue. Mulder sobbed, caught between them, pinwheeling half into madness with pleasure. 

Skinner was losing control, his thrusts deeper and faster. Mulder thrust back against his swelling cock, all discomfort gone now in the blaze of this incredible passion. The big hands grasped his hips as that big cock slammed again and again into Mulder's hole, and Mulder felt his own aching cock beginning to throb deep inside Scully. She felt it and licked her fingertips, reaching down to diddle at her clit.
    
    
    4:23.

Mulder noted the time, saw the impossibly tiny motion of the camera iris winking through the tiny lens in the clock face -- looked deep into the black pupil of the truth as the three of them reached detonation. Skinner howled, almost roaring as he bruised Mulder's hips with his fingers, grinding his cock into his ass to the hilt. Scully shrieked, snatching her hand away from her clit as she convulsed, her head rocking back to thump harmlessly against the padded floor. 

The combined sensations of Skinner coming inside him, cock pulsing, and the oceanic ripples squeezing him deep in Scully's cunt joined like a thunderclap at the base of Mulder's cock. He threw his head back and cried as he came, a shower of fiery stars glittering all down the length of his spine as he spurted deep inside Scully. 

He cried as he felt their arms around him, cried as Skinner carefully pulled out, cried as they all slid into exhaustion and sleep. He knew they would never be allowed to remember this room, or the truth that he had found here. That he was beautiful. That he was loved.

The last thing he felt before the void took him back was the feather-light pressure of Scully's lips pressed against his temple. It was the only memory he retained of the incident when next he woke.

**Author's Note:**

> The time markers are in real-time as I wrote this story.


End file.
